


For the hoard

by keycoward



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, blood warning, make out, mentions of sexual attraction, nswish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 11:45:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2650847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keycoward/pseuds/keycoward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons and Grif are reunited after being separated by a zombie hoard</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the hoard

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt via Tumblr that I enjoyed writing. Happy Grimmons  
> Shoot me a prompt if you want at the keythecoward

Simmons clutched the old hunting rifle in his hands tightly. He was looking around desperately. The hoard of vectors was mostly dispersed and hadn't caught wind of him yet. He didn't know how, he was sweating and nearly sobbing.  
That lazy fat ass had no right to do that! He had no right to be the hero and shove him in the dumpster while running away making as much noise as he could. God dammit! Simmons was looking desperately for a short and fat Hawaiian with long hair in a pony tail and a bunch of tattoos. Scanning desperately and hoping to god he wouldn't see him as a vector.   
Grif liked to calm the zombies. Saying "They act the same, so they are the same" They always bickered about it. Simmons taking the point that they were vectors, made to pass on the virus. God what if he could never bicker about it again? He clutched the gun tighter, the weight in his pocket reminded him of his bullets left. How many he had fired into the hoard. The one he shot into his mothers head, to the baker down on kingsway, to the old lady who liked to pinch his cheeks and tell him he'd find a wonderful young woman some day. He never had the heart to tell he was gay like his mother was. His mom.  
She was the reason the hoard formed.  
He had seen her on carrie drive and without thinking he called out to her. He saw her from behind, he had no clue she was a vector. She was a bow and quiver still on her and looked battered. It was when she turned around to reveal herself that he realized his mistake. The bite wound on her neck, the blood that stained her clothes. Her dulled eyes and pale clammy skin with pronounced blue veins. The blood around her lips. She had turned. But was worse.  
She was a caller.  
When she had opened her mouth she made this inhuman noise. Loud and clear, ringing through their small town. She stumbled towards him, clicking and biting the air. He had been frozen stiff. His mother, the professional archer was turned. Grif had yanked him back and pulled him along as the hoard started forming. He fired as many shots as he could. One to put down his mother, two for the baker, three for the old lady. Going on from each face he knew. That Grif knew, that they had grown up knowing. The kind people who helped raised them.   
Next time he saw Grif would it be the same?  
Would he see the pistol still in his hand, held on the tape he always had wrapped around so that he wouldn't drop his gun when running. Looking like he was observing a building. Would he call out to him? Run towards him shouting his name as other survivors wold yell at him to stop. Would he turn around to reveal a bite wound and be covered in blood? Dulled eyes with blue veins. Would it happen all over again. The sounds, the running, the shots, the huffing breaths, the sacrifice?  
The sound of someone rolling over the edge to collapse on the ground startled him. He whipped around, gun aimed and finger on the trigger only to see Grif. Panting and huffing.  
"No bites, no scratches, just...just running. I lost them in the department store. Oh my god that was hard. I shouldn't have skipped gym so many times" Grif tried to roll on his side. Simmons had dropped his gun and his pack and stomped over to Grif. The tanned skin lad peered up from his beanie to see Simmons angry and near tears. He fell to his knees and grabbed Grif's face, meshing his lips to his. Grif was surprised for a moment but leaned back, taking Simmons with him. He moving his jaw in the most criminal way and slipped his tongue into his mouth. Simmons welcomed it and kissed back. Grif's hands grazed down his body until they found the prize of Simmons's ass. He squeaked and scowled at Grif before resuming their kissing for a few more precious moments. When they finally pulled apart Grif was trying to pull of the navy jacket that Simmons was wearing. Something murky in his eyes that he recognized. It was confirmed when he felt something hard at his thigh.  
"Jesus christ Grif you were almost killed and now you-you-you!" He was blushing and Grif couldn't help but laugh. Pulling on his shirt, wanting him to come down again but Simmons refused to budge "We could be jumped by Vectors any moment and you want to!"  
"I can't help it when you kiss me like that, and by the looks of it you want some action too" He cocked an eye brow and punctuated it with a smirk. Simmons looked down to see his own appendage hard. He blushed further. He mumbled something along the lines of 'when we're safe' that made Grif gleeful. As they stood up Grif pulled Simmons down again to his height and kissed him, hand on his ass and his jaw moving in the criminal way again. When they broke apart they were silent for a few moments.  
"Don't do it again" Simmons grumbled.  
"What grab your ass? To my experience you like that!" Grif narrowed his eyes.  
"No I mean using yourself as bait! That's a Sarge plan and it could've ended like how he always wanted...but...I can't.....I need you alive Grif" He cast his eyes down.  
Grif smiled pulled him closer. "Don't worry, I knew what I was doing. I would never die and give the Sarge the satisfaction of my death. Nor would I leave you." He rubbed Simmons's back.  
"Promise?"  
"Promise!"  
.....  
"You never kept your promise Grif"


End file.
